To Include Women In The Sequel
by AprilLudgateKarateDwyer
Summary: What seems like centuries ago, Angelica assured her sisters she'd compel Thomas Jefferson to include women in the sequel. When she finally meets him, things don't go exactly as planned.
1. Chapter 1

As Angelica tossed from side to side of the velvet-covered seat of a carriage, she found herself cursing the streets of Paris.

 _Say what you will about London, but at least it didn't have this many potholes_ , she thought with a grimace.

She had already been in a sour mood prior to this reckless carriage ride. Earlier that day her dear husband had practically thrown her out of her study-with no warning, at that-to prepare for a banquet she hadn't known was today. She had raced down the hall to her closet, picked out the first ball gown she had laid eyes on, changed, and did her hair in record time. Still, by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, her husband was red in the face and gripping his cane with white knuckles, a telltale sign that he was getting a little hysterical.

After all, John Church was not a man to miss political appearances. Or in this case, be a few minutes late to one.

 _And heaven forbid we be a bit late to anything_.

It was times like these where Angelica pondered how she had wound up in this situation at all. She had been young when John had asked her to marry him. Maybe a little too naïve, too.

In her defense, John had fulfilled a dream of the ideal husband, a dream she now knew was just an illusion. He was rich so she could support herself and her family. He was in elite social circles, which meant she would remain in them. He had been charming and articulate at one point.

If she couldn't marry Alexander like she so desired, John was a suitable alternative. He was a gentleman and an important political figure.

She should have known something would have to give at some point.

Angelica's face must have been pretty scrunched up in thought, because John took notice.

"Something wrong, dearest?"

Angelica was snapped out of her thoughts. She just shook her head, not wanting to worsen the contempt that was boiling in the pits of her stomach. Her face must not have been very convincing, thought, because he sighed and continued speaking.

"I know our departure was a bit rough, but this banquet is very important to me. I know you hold your studies dear, but to what merit? A woman only needs a certain degree of knowledge. Too much and you could be overwhelmed, like today."

Angelica felt her teeth grinding together, but she didn't care. She had heard this practiced speech before, of course. Particularly when she had dedicated a room of the house to her studies, much to John's annoyance.

His speech had eventually gone away and he learned to accept her voracity for knowledge. Now that this particular speech had made a return, she found herself loosing patience.

"It wasn't my studies that made us late, _dearest_ , it was your failure to inform me that this was today. It's as if you forgot about me." She said with a particular stinging look at the word 'forgot'.

Now that she was alone with John and had his attention, she figured she might as well continue ranting.

"It's been becoming more and more common for you to brush me under the rug until your little gatherings, and I-"

"Don't be silly darling, I would never forget about my beautiful wife."

If that was the best he had to shut her up, she wasn't going to dignify it with a response, even if her silence was what he wanted. Perhaps she would embarrass him at the banquet.

As her mind started to wander to how she would do just that, the carriage lurched to a stop and Angelica was flung from her seat onto John. She quickly got up, not wanting to be so close to him.

They both stepped down from the carriage and into one of the biggest ball rooms Angelica had ever seen. The first thing she noticed was the peculiar colored walls-a powder blue that she knew Eliza would have adored. Every other detail was accented in white, and everyone seemed to conform to that particular color scheme.

She looked down suddenly to check if she was as well. She was wearing a particularly striking red gown. She looked at John, who donned a navy blue suit, and who was currently glowering at her dress as if it were a rodent the carriage had run over.

She sighed and turned her chin up. She had thought about embarrassing John anyways, and he hadn't given her the time or notice to pick something more appropriate.

John offered his arm all the same, which Angelica took with only slight hesitation. He was muttering to himself after he tore his eyes away from her dress, not much of which Angelica heard, but one didn't have to be a genius to figure out the gist of what he was saying.

They approached the arched entryway and Angelica heard the familiar call of their names.

"Mr. and Mrs. Church!"

They walked forward, both painting on happy, elegant appearances. Angelica was used to stares, her normal appearance commanded them. She knew these stares were because of her apparel, but she tried to convince herself they were the same stares as in London.

They walked along the outskirts of the room, John talking to important noblemen, Angelica smiling radiantly and laughing at the right moments. Only the more observant guests saw the disinterest and disgust in her eyes.

The whole thing felt like a con to Angelica.

After about an hour of this, Angelica knew she couldn't hold the act much longer. She quickly used the first excuse to come to mind.

"Darling, these shoes might as well be eating my feet!" she exclaimed with a laugh, which the surrounding party echoed. "I think I'll excuse myself for a while to sit."

She didn't miss the flicker of annoyance that appeared in his eyes as he replied, "don't be too long, dear", and then turned back to his conversation.

She pulled a chair for herself at one of the tables farther away from most of the guests and sat down. She scanned the room, not entirely sure what she was looking for. Her eyes settled on the people dancing in the center of the room and she felt a flicker of jealousy when she spotted a young and absolutely beaming couple. She pushed the pang further inside herself, knowing she could never have that.

It was a child's wish.

Not a moment later, she felt a rather firm tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see the most shocking looking man she had ever seen.

And shocking was really the only word she could think to describe him.

The stranger, like herself, was wearing something outrageous for this particular ball: a waistcoat in a startling shade of magenta. His wild curls surrounded his face, uncontained. On his face he wore the most self-assured smirk she had ever seen. She also saw the large crowd congregated behind him. All of their eyes were trained on him.

"May I have the next dance, madam?" he asked, with no introduction or fake conversation topics. And without dropping the smirk.

Angelica noted how his southern accent stood out against the majority of French accents in the room and couldn't contain her bewilderment and slight curiousiy.

"I'm sorry, but _who are you_?"

His smirk only faltered a moment before it grew into an amused grim. The crowd behind him listening to their conversation looked horrified.

"Thomas Jefferson, pleasure to make your acquaintance." He gave a bow that she thought was a little mocking.

"Thomas Jefferson?"

She stood abruptly from her chair. The crowd behind him burst into laughter, but she was too startled to care. She wasn't sure what to say so she stuck out her hand.

"Angelica Church."

Jefferson's eyes flickered from her face to her hand and then finally back to meet her eyes before taking her hand. She could tell he wasn't used to being greeted by women in such a way, and she almost laughed out loud at the expression on his little crowd's faces.

She had once told her sisters that when she met Thomas Jefferson she would compel him to include women in the sequel of their nation, and she wasn't about to let them down.

To answer your question, Mr. Jefferson, I would like to talk if that's alright with you."

His face fell a little, but only for a millisecond.

"Nonsense, we'll talk after we dance."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he took her arm and she found herself being led to the dance floor.

She supposed one dance wouldn't hurt.

As it turned out, Thomas Jefferson liked to show off, much like a certain brother in law she knew. Even though the dance was a simple 3-step, he added in extra steps and dipped her more times than she could count.

Angelica felt herself struggling to keep up, but her stubbornness refused to let him outdo her, so she kept step with his ridiculous dancing and actually found herself enjoying it. They moved around the room in a flash of magenta and red in the sea of blue and white.

She felt a laugh bubbling in her chest; Thomas was grinning a big, stupid grin.

As the band slowed things down, so did they.

"I must say, you are a wonderful dancer Mrs. Church."

"You as well, Mr. Jefferson. I honestly wouldn't have suspected it of you, of all people."

Angelica smiled a genuine smile. She wasn't beaming, but these days, it was rare to see a genuine smile on her face.

"Funny, that's what most people say." He said as he dipped her again.

Angelica rolled her eyes.

"So, Mr. Jefferson, I hear the war in America will be ending soon. I can't help but wonder how we're going to do things differently than our Tory neighbors."

Thomas merely chuckled.

"Yes, yes, you see dear, we'll be able to vote, and taxes won't be nearly as dreadful." He said in a slightly condescending tone.

Angelica glared at him, putting a little more distance between herself and her dance partner. She had had it up to here with the men she had interacted with today.

"I'm not stupid, Mr. Jefferson. I know you and your comrades will get certain rights you weren't afforded, but what of women and negros? If you ask me, we are getting a second chance. We should make this count for everyone."

Thomas looked shocked by the sudden passion in her tone. His pride flared up, he wouldn't allow her to win this.

"Well it's a good thing no one asked _you_."

Angelica's jaw physically dropped.

" _Excuse me_?"

"Women's tender hearts don't have a place in politics. I know from-"

Before he could finish his sentence and before Angelica registered what she was doing, her hand had come back and struck Thomas Jefferson across the face.

There were audible gasps from Jefferson's little gang. Movement in the room seemed to stop. No one was dancing, much less talking. Angelica felt every eye on herself and Jefferson. She locked eyes with her husband.

She had never seen him look so horrified.

Angelica's anger gave way to embarrassment. She turned back to Jefferson, who was cupping his cheek in his hand and looking at her with bewilderment and a hint of something she couldn't identify.

She gave him a small curtsey and then turned on heel and stalked out of the room.

 _John is going to kill me if I don't die of embarrassment first._

Yet, Angelica didn't regret it for a second.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello fellow Hamilton freaks! This is my first fanfic and I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: I have no idea what I'm doing. So feel free to comment suggestions and what you like/dislike. I'm not really sure where this story is going, but I had the idea for this chapter and kind of loved it. I remember learning about the founding fathers in elementary school, and now I think it's beyond weird that I'm writing fanfiction about them. Oh well. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Days had passed since Thomas Jefferson had angered Angelica Church to the point of slapping him across the face.

He still had the ghost of a bruise. But that bruise was nothing compared to the one Angelica had left on his ego.

Thomas glowered at his quill. He couldn't concentrate. Angelica Church's angered face still swam in his vision. He hated that he had been the one to cause such a look.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself (of course he would never admit it to anyone else), he regretted what he had said.

He never wanted someone with such a beautiful smile to look so disappointed ever again.

Maybe that was why he found himself rising out of his seat and grabbing his coat and walking out the door. Maybe that's why he asked a young shop owner for directions to the Church residence.

Thomas found the house that Angelica was likely inside of. It turned out to not be a long walk from his own. He swung his cane as he walked up the pristine lawn to the front of the house.

He climbed the porch stairs and reached the wooden front door. Just as he raised a hand to knock, the door swung open to reveal a startled looking Angelica.

* * *

Angelica hadn't technically been put under house arrest, but she may as well have been.

John hadn't taken kindly to her little mishap at the last banquet. He was sure she was trying to publicly shame him. Although she had thought about it earlier that day, that wasn't why she had slapped Thomas Jefferson, the famed American ambassador to France, in front of everyone.

She had acted out of pure spite.

And although she had apologized to her husband for embarrassing him multiple times, she would not apologize for her actual action. She still didn't regret it, even after all this.

She sighed, looking out the window of her study. Angelica couldn't seem to distract herself. The incident at the banquet had only strengthened her resolve, only now her resolve involved destroying Thomas Jefferson if they ever were to argue again.

She smirked at the thought of his bewildered face, imagining giving him a verbal smack down this time. It would have to wait, though. Her husband had insisted she stay home and 'read up about proper etiquette in Paris'.

It definitely wasn't a suggestion. He must have been truly desperate if he was encouraging her to read.

Angelica hadn't bothered picking up a book today. She was finishing up a hastily scribbled letter to Alexander, detailing what had happened.

Not only was Angelica eager to tell her favorite brother in law what had happened, but she could also use posting the letter as an excuse to leave the house for the first time in days.

She poked her head around the corner of John's study. She was fairly sure he had left earlier that morning, but if he hadn't, that was most definitely where he would be.

The room was empty.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Angelica grabbed her favorite coat and walked towards the front door. When she opened the door, she wasn't prepared for what was on the other side and jumped slightly.

Thomas Jefferson stood there with his fist raised. Angelica arched an eyebrow.

"You aren't here to return the favor and punch me in the face, are you?"

Thomas raised his eyebrows and then let out a faint laugh.

"Not exactly."

It took him a moment for him to realize exactly why he had come. He kind of just got up from his desk and walked to Angelica's house. She looked at him expectingly and he sighed as it dawned on him what she wanted to hear.

"You really want an apology? I think it's safe to say that you got the last laugh."

"Why else would you show up on my doorstep uninvited?"

She was not amused at all. Thomas however, apparently found the situation hysterical.

"Can't a man show up and invite a lady to a friendly outing on the town? If you ask me, it would be down right impolite to refuse."

A devious smile appeared on her face before she responded.

"Yes, well, it's a good thing no one asked _you._ "

Thomas fought the urge to laugh as he imitated her shocked face from the banquet, his eyebrows disappearing into his curls and his jaw dropped in a dramatic fashion.

Now Angelica was laughing, and Thomas decided he liked the sound of her laugh. It wasn't the soft, tinkling sound he heard from other women. It was clearer and deeper than that.

"Shall we?" he offered Angelica his arm.

The smile disappeared from her face and her eyes reflected thought.

"You still haven't given me an apology. And besides, I wasn't thinking of going to town today. My husband insists I stay out of this weather."

"So you just opened the door to admire the scenery?" he arched an eyebrow.

Angelica scoffed and smacked his arm.

"If you must know, I wanted to catch a bit of fresh air."

"Ah, the cursed cold air your dear husband insists you are too frail to handle."

Angelica scowls and Thomas spots the scrap of paper in her hand.

"And what's this?"

Now Angelica was on the defensive.

"Nothing of your concern, Mr Jefferson."

He tried to yank it out of her hand, but she was too quick. Now she was playing keep away with a man who was supposed to be a pristine gentleman.

"How old-" she dashed to the right again, " _are_ you?"

She tried to raise the letter out of his reach by standing on her toes, but he had the height advantage and snatched it out of her hand.

" _My dearest Alexander,_ " he stared to read, but Angelica snatched it back.

"Are you quite done going through my personal writings?" she demanded.

He smoothed his coat and avoided her blistering gaze.

"Yes, I suppose that got a little out of hand."

"Yes, _a little._ You show up on my property, deny me an apology, and then try to read a personal letter. _Good day_ , Mr Jefferson."

She pushed past him, fuming.

"Angelica wait, I'm-" he was cut off as she whipped around.

"And it's Mrs. Church to you."

With that she stormed off towards the town, leaving Thomas to wonder if they would ever be able to have a conversation without Angelica storming away in anger.


	3. Chapter 3

Most people weren't able to tell by looking at Angelica, but she was a very capable runner.

Thomas was soon to find that out as he stood on the side of the street with his hands on his knees, panting and accepting defeat.

He had chased her as far as the entrance to the square, where she had slipped off into the crowd, still at a sprint. He half heartedly scanned the crowd for a flash of peach, but knew she was long gone.

 _This is what I get for trying to apologize._

Most people who knew Thomas knew that he wasn't one to apologize, even when he knew he had done something wrong. The fact that he had willingly chased a woman of no significance to himself half way across town with an apology on his lips would have sounded like a lie to anyone.

"I'll be damned if I try that again." he grumbled as he trudged home.

He arrived to his not so modest home and slammed the door behind him. One of his servants took his coat, then he entered the rather enormous library that was in his house. He sat at his desk and tried to resume the letter he had been drafting earlier.

He subconsciously began to hum the song that the band had been playing during his and Angelica's dance.

When he realized what he was doing, he groaned and let his head fall onto the desk, cursing.

* * *

Angelica slipped back into her house, silently scolding herself for not locking the door earlier. She entered the house and let the door click shut quietly behind her.

She passed her husband's study on the way to her own, and to her surprise John was sitting in his chair. She mentally smacked herself. It was Saturday.

 _Shit._

On Saturday, John always came home three hours earlier than he would on a normal day. She had planned for this originally, but running all over town to avoid a certain ambassador took up more time than she had thought.

Her husband looked up from his work to see Angelica. She stood there waiting for a speech. After a moment of silence he asked,

"Something wrong, dearest?"

Angelica wanted to scream and breath a sigh of relief at the same time. She painted on a smile.

"No, nothing dear." she replied, her voice higher pitched than usual.

"Excellent."

And with that, he turned back to his work and Angelica walked to the door of her study. She stood with her hand on the door handle, but then released it. This room was too close to John's, and it was her every intention to scream bloody murder into a pillow.

She walked up the staircase to their room and flung herself onto the bed with a thud. She felt the urge to scream draining away as she sat staring up at the ceiling. She shouldn't really have been surprised that John hadn't noticed her absence, or disappointed for that matter. If he had noticed, she would certainly be being scolded right now.

Then again, if he had noticed, maybe the horrible feeling in her stomach wouldn't be present.

She frowned, her anger gone; in its place was a cold sadness and a tired feeling. Angelica guessed part of that could have been from all the running she had done.

As it turned out, running away from Thomas Jefferson in a fit of rage was good exercise.

On the bright side, she had gotten to post her letter to Alexander. Although, she definitely had more to tell him the next time she wrote, most of it including how much like a five-year-old the ambassador was acting.

 _Alexander is going to have one hell of a time when Jefferson returns to America._

Angelica's thoughts wandered to her family across the Atlantic. She thought of Alexander, Eliza, Peggy, her father, and her nieces and nephews that she had yet to meet.

A while back,Eliza had written to her about the birth of her firstborn, Phillip, with such excitement that Angelica could almost hear Eliza's ecstatic voice and see her joyful face. Angelica didn't even feel the familiar twinge of jealousy that usually came from reading Eliza's happy letters. All she felt was happiness and pride for her darling Eliza.

Now Eliza was expecting her second child, and Angelica could no longer ignore the fact that she did not have her own. It's not as if she and John hadn't tried. Back when Angelica thought she loved John and he loved her, they talked of having a large family. For whatever reason, it just had not happened.

Now she was getting more desperate. She knew if she didn't bear a child, she would be stuck in this house with John by herself for the rest of her days.

 _Or you would leave_ , said a small voice in her head. The thought that repeated itself at least once every day.

She knew she might be able to get away with it. Her father was still alive,and he would do anything for his darling daughter, but this was a bit of a stretch.

Phillip Schuyler was past his prime. He was already starting to turn for his daughters and their husbands for support.

As for turning to one of her sisters: she knew Eliza and Alexander would graciously accept her, but she would never be able to swallow her pride well enough to ask for their help;she cared for them too much. Peggy had only recently gotten married; Angelica couldn't burden her with her own troubles.

She also didn't have a real reason to run away. She was well provided for and allowed to do as she pleased most days, which was as much as any one could ask for.

She sighed and shook her head. She had gotten herself into this mess with her own poor judgement, her family shouldn't have to pay the price.

Children were the answer. And she'd be damned if she gave up now.

She lay staring at the ceiling, playing with the wedding ring on her finger.

She didn't know how long she stayed like this. Eventually, she heard the door creak open and John entered the room. Without looking at the bed where his wife lay, he began trifling through the drawers of the nightstand.

"You haven't happened to see my spectacles, have you dear?"

When she only continued staring up at the ceiling with her eyebrows furrowed, he was forced to take notice.

"Are you quite sure you're alright darling? You don't seem...right."

Angelica took a deep breath before she did anything. Then she sat up, abruptly got off the bed, took John by the collar and kissed him.

He gasped in shock, but only hesitated a moment before melting and returning the kiss. She knew how to play him.

Angelica kicked the door closed before dragging John onto the bed.

* * *

After finishing their little midday affair, John had gotten dressed, kissed Angelica once more, and returned to his study. Angelica wrapped herself in the bed sheet, walked down the hall, and drawn herself a bath. Nothing outrageous had happened. John had been gentle with her. She had been gentle with John.

She still couldn't help but feel dirty, to some extent.

She got out of the bath when it started to turn cold. She was able to get dressed by herself, lacing up her corset with a practiced hand. She wandered downstairs, not really sure where she was going, and ended up in her study.

She looked at the stacks of books lining her desk. To the normal eye, her study looked extremely messy. Angelica had organized her belongings in her own personal way, given the absence of any shelves from the room. Poetry books were stacked in one corner, history in another. Political theory and recent texts and pamphlets took up the majority of space, lying under the giant desk at the center of the room. Her own writings were spread across the desk in a mess that would have made Alexander proud.

Of course, the difference was that Angelica knew the mess like the back of her hand. She shuffled through the books under her desk, trying to find a particular volume she had been studying earlier that week.

Just as she got her hands on the one she had been searching for, she heard a rather loud knock on the front door. Wondering who would be visiting at this hour (they rarely received visitors after 4, much less 8:30), she forgot she was under a desk and sat up.

She had to shove her fist in her mouth to keep from cursing as loudly as she wanted to as she crawled out from under the desk.

She quietly opened the door of her study, rubbing her head, and peaked around the corner, where the front door was visible. Her husband already stood there, pulling open the door. The flash of magenta she saw before the door had fully opened let Angelica know who the stranger was, and she suddenly remembered what had happened only that day. It already felt like weeks ago.

As soon as John realized who it was, Angelica could tell her husband was trying to contain his shocked expression.

"Mr Jefferson, what brings you here at this hour? Not that it isn't a pleasure to have you. I didn't get a chance to speak with you at the banquet." John's voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, seemingly only then remembering the didn't seem phased.

"I was actually hoping to speak with Mrs. Church, if you don't mind."

"Of course", replied John, shuffling to get out of the way and then gesturing for Thomas to come in. Angelica moved back into her study before either of them could see her, but it didn't matter, because a moment later she heard her husband's elevated voice.

"Angelica, would you come here for a moment?"

After taking a breath of frustration and a moment to compose herself, she walked out of her study and approached the two men waiting at the entrance at the end of the hall.

"Yes, dear?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

Thomas stood imposingly in the background, swinging his head around to get every angle of the house like a curious child. John cleared his throat before speaking.

"As you know, I greatly disapproved of your behavior at the last banquet we attended with Mr Jefferson. He did nothing to deserve such disrespect-"

"On the contrary-" she tried to interrupt.

"-and he has come all the way to our home in the freezing cold. I would like for you to apologize to him."

Angelica let out a snort of something between disgust and laughter.

"I am _not_ about to apologize for something that he deserved. Jefferson is a fully grown man, surely he should be able to handle-"

" _Angelica!_ "

If looks could kill, John Church would surely be dead. Thomas cut into the conversation before things could get ugly.

"Actually, I came here to apologize to her."

Angelica wished she was a talented painter, if only to be able to capture the look of absolute horror that donned her husband's face.

Angelica leaned back slightly, crossing her arms and giving Thomas a meaningful look.

"It's about time."

John looked ill.

"Angelica, I'm sorry for what I said. If I had known...I just couldn't..." the ambassador stumbled over his words.

Angelica would have found the whole thing amusing if she weren't so stunned. John, however, still found it horrifying.

"Yes, of course we accept your gracious apology. It was very chivalrous of you."

He chuckled, and Angelica assumed he was getting hysterical.

"I'm sure my wife would apologize if she was feeling well. She normally has the best manners, but she hasn't been right today. Why, just today I had to-"

"Do _not_ talk about me like I'm not here."

Angelica was seething, her hands balled into tight fists. Thomas was at the point of yelling at him as well. He had only known Angelica for a short time, but he was certain she didn't deserve such blatant disrespect. With a cold look at John, he turned back to Angelica and continued.

"I just couldn't fathom that a woman as beautiful as yourself could contain such wit and passion all in one."

Angelica could only stare as the ambassador looked at her, guaging her reaction. This was bold, even for a man that lived in a small mansion and wore magenta most of the time. And for the first time in a while, Angelica was speechless.

They both seemed to remember John was there at the same time. Angelica knew that most men would not let that kind of talk go unnoticed, especially in their own home. But she also knew John would do anything for a cheap political point.

"She is something, isn't she?"

John's smile was too big and his eyes too wide, and she knew that he was trying very hard to keep up the act. Thomas turned to John.

"Yes", he waved a finger at her husband like he was a naughty child in need of scolding, "don't you forget it."

Now that she noticed it, Thomas looked extremely uncomfortable as well. After all, this probably wasn't an everyday thing for him. Thomas bowed politely toward John and then took his leave without another word, leaving Angelica and John standing at the entrance of their home in uncomfortable silence.

Angelica needed a drink.

* * *

 **Well this chapter refused to stop. Whoops. Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed/faved/followed, it means a lot. I'm still new to using this app for writing so bear with me through all the weird choppy spacing stuff. Thanks again for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: just gonna acknowledge that Tjeffs was probably kind ofooc in that last chapter and mightcontinue to be. The sole reason I'm writing this fic is because I would pay Daveed Diggs to run over me soooo enjoy? This chapter is filled with random bits of tjeffs trivia that I found and am not entirely sure is 100% accurate, but I chose to believe anyways. I _am_ going to include Sally Hemings and her brother, James Hemings, in this chapter, but this fic's tjeffs is better than the one in real life because the plot needs him to be, so he hasn't had an affair with her. If you haven't heard of Sally Hemings, I reccomend looking her up. History likes to overlook her and her family.I'm still writing this a chapter at a time so we'll see where it goes. Fave/follow/review, you know the drill. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.**

* * *

When Thomas had come home grumbling and slamming doors thoughtlessly behind himself, Sally hadn't blinked twice. She was used to his little fits. This one appeared to be frustration. If it was anger, he would be aggressively digging in his garden. Instead, he had barricaded himself in the room that doubled as his bedroom and Sally walked by, she could hear him pacing.

She hadn't thought anything of it until the next day. When he hadn't shown up for breakfast, she was worried he was ill. Her brother, James, sent her to check on him. She knocked on his door tentatively. When he didn't respond, she spoke up.

"Sir, breakfast is ready."

"Just leave it at the door, Sally."

He sounded tired. She went back to James and put the food on a tray, then left it at his door. When she walked by three hours later, his door was still closed, the tray still on the floor, his food still untouched.

This was odd. Thomas never wasted food, especially the particular cheesy pastry that James had prepared this morning.

Lunchtime came and went, so the sixteen year old went to check on him again.

"Sir, are you sure you're alright? You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm fine Sally, I just...have a violent headache."

Sally knew he was lying, but she didn't say anything further. She guessed he must be upset about something, and decided he would get over it eventually.

When dinner came, she didn't bother telling him to come to downstairs. She just left the tray of one of his favorites, macaroni, outside his door, hoping the smell would be enough to draw him outside. When she returned later, she was relieved to see that the bowl was empty.

The next day was more of the same. As she helped James prepare Thomas's lunch, she talked with her brother about what could be going on.

"He must have _really_ blown an appearance or a meeting", her older brother mused.

"That or he's finally gone mad", said Sally, crossing her eyes and twirling a finger in a circular motion by her head.

James snickered.

"I wouldn't be surprised."

He handed her the tray and she headed up the stairs to Thomas's bedroom once again. She knocked. She received silence. She sighed and tapped her foot. He was getting on her last nerve, and Sally considered herself a patient person.

"Sir, should I call a doctor? If you really are ill I don't want it to get worse."

"What do you mean, _if I really am ill?_ " he snapped.

Sally sighed in exasperation.

"I'll call the doctor, then."

"No, don't."

"Then tell me what's wrong."

"Just shoo Sally, I don't have to tell you anything."

Sally could tell by his tone of voice that this conversation. She made a face at the door and walked away. As she went outside to start on the laundry, she realized that he had been letting her call him 'sir' instead of 'Thomas', something he never let her catch a break on.

 _He must be incredibly distracted._

Later that day, a French councilman knocked on the door and Sally answered. He asked to speak with Thomas, and Sally almost couldn't understand him due to his accent.

"Please hold on a moment, I'll go and get him."

She left him at the door and raced to Thomas's room. Sally knocked more frantically this time.

"Sir, councilman Wesley is here to see you."

"Sally, have you been deaf for the past day? I have a headache. I can't see anyone right now."

"But sir, surely-"

" _Sally._ Tell him to come back some other time."

She stomped back to the front door to deliver the news.

"I'm sorry sir, Mr Jefferson is suffering from a sudden headache. He told me to give you his regards and suggests you come and see him another day."

The man swore in French and then left the property without thanking her. When he was gone, Sally marched back to Thomas's bedroom door and knocked more aggressively.

" _Thomas_ , you either need to let me call a doctor or tell me what's really the matter with you."

No response. That was it. Sally went to the drawing room, tipped over the pot that contained the spare key, then marched back. She inserted the key into the lock and then pulled the handle.

She was greeted by the sight of Thomas sprawled out on the floor in a rather dramatic fashion, staring at the cieling. Or at least, he was staring at the ceiling before he turned to glare at her.

"You know, I should get rid of you."

Sally would have been frightened, but there was no real conviction in his voice. She was embarrassed at her sudden boldness, though, and looked down at the floor.

"You know I just want to help, sir."

He sighed before his face softened.

"And you know I want you to call me Thomas."

She looked back at his observed that she looked more like a worried child now more than ever.

"Thomas, what's wrong?"

He sat up and began his explanation.

"Rememberhow on Saturday, I was pacing around my office all day, then left that night?"

She nodded carefully, patiently waiting for him to resume his story.

"I may have been going to-", he grimaced, "apologize to a woman I met last week."

She raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised.

"And why is that so bad?"

He paused again.

"I panicked. I told her too much."

"And what did you tell her?"

"That she was beautiful, witty, and passionate. But it didn't come out right."

Thomas layed back on the floor again and put his hands on his face. Sally couldn't stifle a small laugh. Thomas immediately scowled at her.

"You think this is funny?"

Now Sally couldn't contain herself. She burst out laughing. Thomas looked scandalized; he had never heard her laugh this much, much less at him.

"I just-", she giggled, "you've locked yourself in your room for _two days_ because you behaved awkwardly in front of a girl you fancy?"

Now Thomas was on trying to regain whatever authority he had left.

"Get out of here, you pest."

Sally walked out of the door and shut it behind herself, still laughing loudly. Thomas sighed and got up. He knew he had to get dressed and do something productive.

If only to get Sally to stop laughing at him.

* * *

Angelica strolled through the cobblestone streets of Paris, enjoying the rare day of warm sun. She twirled an umbrella over her shoulder. Summer was definitely on the way.

This Monday, she was basking in her freedom. John was away for three days to meet with a French minister. He had left that morning, and was very excited to go. Apparently, this particular minister was in close correspondence with the king of France.

Angelica smiled and shook her head. He had acted like he was going to go and meet King Louis himself instead of some minister at a pub that was probably already tipsy. She hadn't minded though; this meant she would be alone, and he seemed excited, so she was happy for him.

She could also see he was eager to escape the terrible tension (well, more than usual) between the two of them ever since Jefferson had shown up at their home.

She hadn't seen Thomas since he had apologized. She hoped to see him in the square today. After all, now was about the time that most of the citizens of Paris were out and about, doing business or enjoying recreation in the square. The weather also happened to be the nicest it had been in days, making it busier than usual.

Angelica got lost in the hustle and bustle of the square, passing various packed shops packed with customers and harassed-looking shops keepers. She closed the pale umbrella that matched her peach dress and entered a tailor shop.

She was immediately reminded of Alexander's friend, Hercules Mulligan, and smiled sadly. He would have gawked at the size of the shop she was in. As she browsed the many gowns that were on display, she wondered how her friends were fairing in America.

She still hadn't received a letter back from Alexander. Angelica knew that her letter hadn't even reached her brother in law yet, but she couldn't help willing any news of her friends and family to arrive faster, no matter how unrealistic it was.

Angelica finished browsing and stepped outside again. She wandered around the square, weaving in and out of a few search for Jefferson was proving fruitless, he was no where to be found. She wasn't about to give up, though. Angelica knew if he wasn't in the square, he was at home.

She debated with herself on which shop owner to ask, but ended up going to the one closest to her.

"Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to know how to get to the Jefferson residence, would you?" she asked the young owner of the fruit stand.

He nodded vigorously before replying in a heavy and slightly condescending French accent, "Of course. Follow that road until you reach a crossroad; turn left. His is on top of the hill. You'd be blind to miss it."

She thanked the boy and started off in the direction he had pointed her in. She followed his directions until she reached the bottom of the hill and just stared up at the house.

It was magnificently huge. It stretched out horizontally rather than vertically, and the front had no shortage of greek pillars.

She had to agree with the boy; she would be blind to miss it.

She hitched up her skirts and started the climb up the hill, and was a little winded when she reached the top. She climbed the stone steps and knocked on the door.

After a moment, a small black girl that Angelica knew could be no older than seventeen answered the door. Over her shoulder, Angelica could see a grand hallway accented in red. Trying to avoid looking around before she had even stepped in the house, Angelica spoke up.

"Hello, I'm here to speak with Mr Jefferson."

"And what's your name, ma'am?" the girl asked politely.

"Angelica Church."

"Hold on just a moment, please."

The girl left Angelica standing in the doorway and walked up the stairs rather quickly. As soon as she was out of sight, she heard her feet running down the hall. She also heard a hissed conversation but couldn't make out what either person was saying. Eventually, the girl stomped back downstairs.

She was frowning and looked very frustrated.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but Thomas can't see you right now. He has a rather violent headache, but asked me to give you his regards."

Angelica eyed the girl carefully. She knew it wasn't her fault that Thomas was using her to lie, but she had to talk to him.

"Come now, we both know that isn't true."

The girl's eyes widened. Angelica asked again, softer this time.

"Can I see him, please?"

The girl looked at war with herself.

"What's your name, dear?"

Now she looked at Angelica suspiciously.

"My name is Sally."

"Sally, I promise all the blame will be on me. If he tries to punish you for this, he'll have to answer to me first."

Sally gave Angelica one last suspicious look before she sighed and cracked.

"I know I'm going to regret this", she said frankly. Angelica smiled.

"I promise you won't."

Sally looked at her curiously before stating, "I can see why you're the woman who broke Thomas."

Now it was Angelica's turn to be startled as Sally lead her up the staircase.

* * *

 **Ok, I'm not sure why I thought this chapter would be short, but I'm just going to split it intotwo chaptersso I don't go insane. Sooo the next chapter should be up soon because I actually have the general idea of what it's gonna be.**


	5. Chapter 5

The two girls climbed up the staircase, Sally leading the way. When they reached the top, she motioned for Angelica to stay quiet by putting a finger to her lips. Angelica nodded and they tip toed down the hall. Angelica was confused, to say the least.

They reached the door that Angelica assumed led to Thomas's bedroom. Again, Sally motioned for Angelica to stay quiet before knocking on the door.

"What is it Sally?" came a reply from the other side of the door.

"May I come in, sir?"

"Sure."

Both of the ladies on the other side could tell he wasn't really paying attention. Angelica could even hear scribbling and was reminded with a jolt of Alexander. Before she knew what was going on, Sally gave her a mischevious smile, pulled the door open and pushed her inside.

Once Angelica was in the room, Sally shut the door. Angelica looked around at the large room she found herself in. The side she was standing in obviously acted as a bedroom. There was a large oak closet and a few mirrors. In the center of the room, two walls formed a small passage into the next room. In the center of the small passage, a large bed filled up the space entirely. She couldn't help but wonder how he got to the other side without climbing across. The room on the other side of the bed was clearly and office, with a few bookshelves and a desk that Thomas was currently sitting at, with his back to her.

She knew that he was completely unaware of her presence and smirked.

"Why would you stick a bed in the middle of the only passage between two rooms?"

Thomas nearly fell out of the his chair.

Angelica could only laugh as Thomas turned around to look at her in bewilderment. He shook his head and muttered, "I'm going to kill Sally."

Angelica's face suddenly turned stern.

"No, you're not. But since it seems you've miraculously recovered from your headache, you can talk to me."

He glared at her and snapped, "I may not have really had a headache, but you're well on your way to giving me one."

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry my presence makes you ill, but you still never answered my question."

His face turned somber before he spoke.

"My wife and I couldn't agree which side of the room to put the bed, mine or hers, so we put it in the middle. When she died, I turned my side into an office and moved all my stuff over to hers."

Angelica felt very intrusive all of a sudden. She fiddled with the material of her skirt in her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

"Oh. I'm very sorry."

She stared awkwardly across the room at Thomas and he shrugged.

"You wouldn't be the first to ask. It's a weird thing to do."

Angelica nodded awkwardly. They both were silent for a moment, Angelica looking around and Thomas watching her face carefully. In an attempt to diffuse the tension, he spoke.

"I suppose you'll want the full tour now, won't you?" he asked with a slight smirk.

Angelica smiled and replied, "I can't pretend I'm not curious to see what one does with a house so enormous."

He slid across the bed in one graceful yet foolish looking motion to the side of the room where Angelica stood. He straightened his collar and opened the door politely, and Angelica walked through.

"Where to first?" she asked as she looked down the expansive hallways.

He appeared to be thinking before he responded, "This way."

He led her down the hall and back to the staircase, which they walked down. She followed him down the entrance hall that she had seen when she first arrived, and then took a sharp left.

They entered a room painted in a shade of deep plum. There were frilly sofas and love seats in the outskirts of the room and a small table in the middle.

"This is where I normally talk to guests. That is, the guests that don't barge into my room with no warning."

He smirked and Angelica smacked his arm lightly.

"Next time don't lie to me and I'll sit in here like a normal guest."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Touché."

They walked into the room farther down the hall.

"This is the dining room. It's pretty self-explanatory", he said lazily.

Angelica looked around curiously all the same. There was a table that stretched the length of the room, which was a dark green color, and had at least 15 chairs. The silverware and china was all tucked away in one cabinet against the wall.

They walked out of that room and into the last room of the hall. It had closed double doors. Angelica waited for Thomas to explain. Instead he just smirked.

"I have a feeling you're going to like this one."

Angelica didn't know what to make of that.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't respond, just opened the doors and let her look inside. What she saw made her jaw drop.

Shelves upon shelves upon shelves of books lined three of the walls, which stretched up both stories of the house. She looked up at the arched ceiling. She wanted to drink in every square in of the room. Thomas couldn't look more smug if he tried.

"Told you."

She just shook her head and walked over to one of the shelves.

"And why is it that you're hoarding an entire library in your house?"

He shrugged.

"Why not?"

Angelica took a few poetry books she hadn't seen before off the shelf and skimmed through a few pages. Then she seemed to remember Thomas was there.

"May I borrow these?"

He smiled.

"Go ahead."

Angelica was beaming like a child on Christmas and not even trying to hide it.

"Thank you. I'll make sure to bring them back."

Thomas and Angelica left the library a few minutes later, with a little reluctance from Angelica. Thomas had assured her that when she came to return the books, she could take some others. That seemed to be enough to get her to tear herself away.

He led her to the dining room again.

"James should be here with dinner shortly, if you'd like to stay."

Angelica shook her head.

"I couldn't ask him to make dinner for me too."

Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly and said, "Nonsense, he probably already knows you're here. James is Sally's brother, and anything Sally knows, he isn't far behind."

Angelica was still uncertain, but before she could voice her objections, the boy she assumed must be James walked in with a tray of food. Thomas looked delighted.

"Ah, James. I see you took our guest into account."

"Of course, Thomas."

He set the two bowls that were on the tray down onto the table and then poured some wine. Thomas thanked James, who left shortly afterward. Angelica couldn't think of any objections, so she sat down to eat.

She looked down at the bowl. She couldn't see anything beyond a thick layer of cheese.

"And what are we eating tonight?" she asked Thomas.

His mouth was too full of whatever it was to answer her. When he was done chewing, he answered her.

"Macaroni and cheese, one of the greatest delicacies France has to offer." he took another generous bite.

Angelica raised her eyebrows and then tried some. It wasn't what she would call 'one of the greatest delicacies France had to offer', but it wasn't terrible either. Thomas was too busy stuffing his face to make much conversation. When they were both finished, Angelica wondered what was next.

"So are there any other rooms in the house worth mentioning?" she asked.

"Actually, there is."

Angelica scooped her books back up and followed Thomas back up the stairs. He took a right turn into a room with a large window. He lit the gas lamps, and Angelica realized it was already dark outside.

Once she could see, she wasn't sure what she was looking at. All over the room, different parts and pieces of furniture, farming tools, and things she couldn't identify. In the center of the room she saw something that resembled a chair.

She gave Thomas a look, clearly seeking an explanation.

Thomas gestured to the mess and said, "This is where I tinker with things."

Angelica pointed to the chair.

"And what kind of chair is that?"

Thomas looked at the chair and grinned with something that resembled pride.

"A chair that's able to turn in every direction so you don't have to turn yourself. It's not done yet." he added.

Angelica shook her head, looking at the mess.

"I'm not sure if this is the picture of madness or brilliance."

"I'd like to say brilliance, but I'm pretty sure it's madness."

That earned a soft laugh from Angelica. She frowned suddenly. Thomas took notice.

"Something wrong?"

"It's just", she mused, "I only just remembered why I came here in the first place."

"And why's that?"

"To ask you if you were just apologizing because you felt bad, or if you really regretted what you said."

He frowned.

"Why is this so important to you?"

"Why wouldn't it be? I stand by what I said. America should be a second chance for everyone." The spark of passion had returned to her eyes.

"You have influence there. Your declaration states that all men are created equal, but women still cannot vote or own property and our dinner was prepared by slaves. Surely you see the paradox!" she exclaimed.

Thomas sighed. He suddenly looked very tired.

"I don't have any real influence over America when I'm in Paris. I'll return to Virginia when the war is over, then we can begin to discuss this."

She could tell by his tone that she shouldn't continue, but couldn't help one last question.

"Then at least answer me this. Will you at least _try_ to fight for every person, male and female, when you return?"

Her dark eyes bore into his. He felt like he was drowning. He decided one small lie wouldn't hurt anything.

"Yes. I'll try."

Angelica smiled, and it was like everything went back to normal.

"I hope you can get me one of those swivel chairs when you finish them."

He smirked.

"I can't imagine anyone in Paris will go without one once the word gets around."

They headed beck downstairs, the books still in Angelica's arms. They exchanged pleasantries; Angelica thanking Thomas for the hospitality and Thomas welcoming Angelica back any time.

As she walked out the door to go back to her own house, she turned to look at Thomas one last time.

"Make sure to give Sally and James my regards", she said with a meaningful look at Thomas, willing him to remember his promise.

Before he could say anything, she closed the door behind herself and was gone.

* * *

 **To anyone who saw the weird half chapter debacle: my bad. I accidentally hit save before I was done. Thanks for bearing with me and my stupid mistakes!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: ok, since a)I'm too lazy to look up all the French in this chapter and b) it wouldn't make any sense anyways, all the French is in brackets.**

* * *

Angelica spent the next day reading through the poetry books she had borrowed and taking the liberty to write her favorites down so she'd remember them later. There were some particularly beautiful ones in French. She was also managing John's business while he was away, one of the few things he trusted her with, but she had proven she was capable multiple times.

All she really had to do was work with a few numbers and post a letter once and a while, but it meant a lot to her that John, who trusted very few with anything, really, would trust her enough to let her hold down the fort.

That's what she told herself as she scribbled through the monotonous calculations. John ran a trading business. Although he had been a fierce loyalist, which she had once admired for his bravery, he still sold to the patriots in the colonies. While no one else in London was willing to sacrifice their ideals, John had made a small fortune.

 _Who would have thought the absence of a backbone would end us up here._

He was still away on a political pursuit, and Angelica was enjoying her newly found freedom, if only for two days. She finished up the last calculation and creased the paper carefully, then got up from the desk and turned to put the paper in a drawer behind her.

 _Maybe the swivel chair wasn't the worst idea, after all_ , she thought dryly.

She paced into the entrance hall and walked out the front door without a second though. John was gone for the rest of today and possibly some of tomorrow; Angelica wasn't about to waste her time in the house.

She wished she had worn a lighter dress that day. The sun was glaring down with a vengeance, and the dark green dress she was wearing wasn't doing her any favors. It was heavy and much too dark for the weather, and Angelica could feel herself starting to sweat. Luckily, the square was nearby. She ducked into one of the cool shops, greatful for the shade.

She browsed the organized shelves absentmindedly. She wanted to find a way to loosen her corset without being indecent, but knew she was stuck being a sweaty mess for a while. She spotted an ornate fan on display and grabbed it, deciding this would be a good compromise, rather than stripping down in public. She went to the front of the store to pay. She put the fan on a small counter. It was only when the shop keeper extended his flat palm for payment that she realized that she had no way to pay him.

"Oh, no. I'm very sorry sir, I am a fool. I left my francs at home." she said frustratedly.

The shop keeper looked at her with annoyance.

"Then I'm afraid I cannot help you." he said, radiating annoyance, and snatched the fan off the counter.

Angelica was about to apologize once more for her stupidity when she heard a familiar voice.

"I can pay for that."

Angelica groaned internally. She already borrowed some books from Thomas Jefferson and spent an entire afternoon at his house. She didn't want to owe him money now, too.

"No, that's alright. I can go without." she said with a pointed look. Thomas gave her his most sickening smirk.

"Oh, I know that you can, but I insist." he said, handing over the money.

Angelica pursed her lips into a thin line. When Thomas held the fan out to her, she snatched it roughly. The shop keeper eyed them warily. His eyes suddenly sparked with recognition.

"If you're going to hit him, I'm afraid you'll have to take it outside." said the shop keeper, laughing at his own joke.

Angelica's already thin lips virtually disappeared as she grew more frustrated. Of course it had only taken a little more than two weeks for the events of the banquet to turn into town gossip. She made her way to the exit, clutching the fan tightly.

When she got outside, she remembered how hot it was, and Thomas suddenly seemed like a minor inconvenience. She waved the fan frantically.

"You're so lucky you don't have to deal with a damn corset." she said, her breathing slightly shallow.

"Personally, I don't think I would last two minutes in one. I'm too frail," he said mockingly, putting the back of his hand to his forehead for the added affect. Angelica rolled her eyes.

"I'll make sure you're 'too frail' to do anything if you keep talking like that." she said bitingly. This heat was doing her no favors. Thomas's eyes widened.

"You scare me."

They mercifully walked into another shop. This one was one of Angelica's favorites; it always had some sort of new, exotic spice or perfume of some kind that she had never seen before.

She was so engrossed that she nearly forgot that she had company. She turned to Jefferson.

"Why is it that you came to the square, again?" she asked casually. He turned a telescope over in his hands, still examining it when he spoke.

"Just wanted to leave my house, I guess. It may be big, but the square is bigger," he said. "And the company is much better." he added with a wink. She scoffed. This man was infuriating.

"Do you treat all your 'company' like this?" she asked skeptically.

Before he could answer, there was a clamor in the street outside. Angelica and Thomas both turned their head to look out the window to see what what was going on. The yelling continued. They gave one another a look and paced out the door in a hurry.

"[I'm telling you, it's the truth!]" yelled a red headed man.

"[He's just trying to sell papers.]" a balding man assured the crowd in the street, sounding skeptical.

"[No, it's really _true_! It's really over!]" persisted the first man. The muttering of the spectators grew louder, and Angelica was beginning to understand what they were talking about, but dared not believe it.

"[What's going on?]" she interjected. She had to know.

"[The war in America is over! The British surrendered! Their troops are-]"

"[He just wants to sell his paper!]" interrupted the baldingman again.

"[This is _NOT_ about my papers!]" screamed red head man. He looked like his was about to explode with anger.

"[Prove it!]" came a yell from the crowd.

The man with the red face and hair waved a letter around in everyone's faces.

"[This is a letter from my brother Jean! He is in America! He says that the British surrendered at York Town! He _wouldn't_ lie to me!]" he was practically spraying the crowd with spit in his rant. Somehow, his face grew redder than his hair.

Angelica wanted to believe it, she really did. But she could tell from some of the mutters in the crowd that this man wasn't what anyone would call a reliable source.

Angelica prayed that someone would settle this. Her hammering heart combined with the heat made her breathing shallow. She couldn't help but remember the letters Alexander had sent her near the beginning of the war describing Valley Forge. The hardships they had endured over the course or the war were practically unspeakable. She wanted her friends and family to endure no more.

She must have looked pretty miserable, because Thomas rested a steadying hand on her back. She tried to brush off his worried look.

"Do you think he's telling the truth?" she asked Thomas.

"I really can't say. That man did scam me with his papers once. I don't doubt he would do it again. But he seems sure of himself, to say the least."

Angelica could practically see the wheels turning in his head and saw similar expressions on other faces in the crowd. She wasn't sure how long it took for anyone to say anything important again, but it felt like an eternity.

Eventually, a man with a grayed, wise looking face spoke up. He looked completely breathless. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, panting, but addressed the crowd all the same.

"[He tells the truth, and I have proof!]" there were gasps from the crowd, and Angelica stood up a little straighter. The crowd held its breath.

"[I got a letter from my son today. My neighbor got one from her brother yesterday. This man does not lie, it is over.]"

There were shouts. A few women wiped tears away from their faces. Angelica was one of them. She said a silent prayer of thanks and prayed once more that Alexander had survived Yorktown, knowing that he had finally been granted the combat position he wanted.

Meanwhile, Thomas was jumping up and down like a child, yelling things in fluent French. Much to Angelica's surprise, he picked her up and spun her around. Angelica laughed for the first time in a while.

And before she knew what she was doing, before she even knew if her feet had touched the ground again, she grabbed Thomas by the collar and kissed him. It was short, fueled by the chaos of the moment, but it was thrilling.

When she realized what was happening, she broke the kiss. She looked around to see if anyone had seen, but everyone was already preoccupied. Thomas, for once, was completely speechless. As for Angelica, if she thought breathing was difficult earlier, it was nothing compared to now.

She quickly took his hands off her waist and cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, I have a letter to write."

It wasn't a lie. She intended to write a long letter to her brother in law and give him a piece of her mind.


	7. Chapter 7

_Les Amís_ wasn't the most popular pub in Paris, but it was quite possibly the loudest. The door was propped open, letting yellow light and loud noise spill into the dark street outside. Mothers held their children a little closer when they walked by, as if it would block out the drunken shouts and songs. Now that the end of the American Revolution had been confirmed many times, people were using it as an excuse to celebrate.

Thomas Jefferson was no exception.

He trudged along the street leading to _Les Amís,_ ignoring some people whispering in alleys. He knew that something was brewing in the shadows. Everyone felt it. He hoped it would only be a few riots and dared not think the word 'war'.

Pushing his more morbid thoughts aside, he walked into the pub. He instantly stood out against the crowd, not that he really fit into any room he walked into. Everyone was singing, or in some cases screaming, an old folk song in drunken French, except for a few people sitting in a dark, candle lit corner.

Thomas ordered a whiskey and joined in. The song was "Vive la Rose", he realized. He was reminded of Angelica and the kiss they had shared a day earlier. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, other than confused and slightly smug.

She had kissed _him_. The thought made him smirk, but not in the nasty way he sometimes did. He looked oddly lost while singing with the rest of the pub.

"[And long live the rose and the lily!]" chanted Thomas with everyone, raising his mug in the end with a few people joining suit. Thomas ordered another drink when something caught his eye.

In the corner of the room, the candlelight was dancing on a head of suspiciously familiar raven hair.

* * *

Angelica woke up without remembering what had happened the previous day. It was only when her bare feet hit the cold floor of her room did she remember that the war had ended and she had gotten a letter from Alexander and that she had kissed Thomas Jefferson all in the same day.

She tried to continue her day despite the whirlwind of emotion she found herself in. Angelica wanted so much to hug both of her sisters and jump up and down like they did when they were kids, she was ecstatic. The fact that she knew Alexander was alive made her even happier. It meant the only reason she had to worry for Alexander was if he did something stupid.

She was so happy, but confused as well. She denied herself the idea that their kiss had been more than a kiss.

 _Don't be rediculous. This is_ Jefferson _we're talking about. And it was just the thrill of the moment. That's why it felt so good._ She slammed some papers down onto the desk when she had finished. _And you're married,_ she added to her internal argument as an afterthought.

Suddenly a pang of guilt hit her. John would never do something like this to her, so why did she? She knew it was just a kiss, but with John being gone, it felt like a betrayal of sorts.

Angelica also longed to talk to Eliza. She had already tried to draft a letter, but she had ended up crumpling it up and tossing it into the trash. It just seemed too silly and stupid a thing forher to write down, much less to do.

As the day went on, she gradually forgot about it and got lost in the calculations for John's company. She wouldn't have noticed if someone was standing over her shoulder.

She did, however, hear the door slam open.

Angelica jumped out of her seat and grabbed one of the candlesticks on the desk in what was supposed to be a defensive position. The 'intruder' walked into the room, looking unamused.

"Put that down, you'll get your fingerprints on it." grumbled John.

Angelica was so relieved that she decided to excuse his rudeness.

"John, I thought you were an intruder. Why are you home so early?" she asked in exasperation.

He snorted.

"What a welcome home! Thank you, _dearest."_ His voice sounded venemous.

Angelica felt her stomach drop.

 _He knows._

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked cautiously, trying to act innocent. He sunk down into a chair and put his head in his hand. His dramatic behavior would have been funny if Angelica didn't feel like she was about to throw up.

"I would, if it hadn't been for your _carelessness._ " he spat. Angelica felt the blood drain out of her face.

"John, I'm so sor-"

"Don't apologize! Minister Dean sure didn't apologize to me! He only laughed!" he yelled. A hysterical smile was on his usual handsome, frowning face.

Angelica stood there open mouthed trying to figure out what was happening.

"I'm only going to ask this once. What the hell are you accusing me of?" Her tone sent shivers down John's spine, but he quickly recovered.

He pointed an accusatory finger at her. His face was bright red.

"You put the wrong letters in my bag on purpose! I looked like an absolute fool!"

She tried to think back to when she packed his bag for this venture. Her mouth formed a small 'oh' when she remembered that she had laid the correct letters out on her desk and had come back later to put them in the bag. She must have grabbed the wrong ones.

Meanwhile, John stood up, swaying slightly, and dumped the contents of his bag onto the ground. Among the mess, two old letters fluttered down. He picked them up and began to read one.

 _"My dearest Alexander, Things here are dull as usual. I entertain myself with the idea of you harassing general Washington as John harasses me."_

As he continued to read, Angelica suddenly felt very self conscious. She crossed her arms, shooting John a deadly look while waiting for him to finish.

" _...and I cannot express how much I would relish seeing you and your wife right about now. Yours, Angelica"_ he finished.

There was a moment of silence.

"When Minister Dean read this, he nearly burst from laughter! Nearly exploded! Said if my own wife didn't respect me, who would!" he yelled. Angelica could smell the alcohol on his breath.

She felt hurt. It had been an accident for her to put the wrong letters into the bag. The worst part of it was, she couldn't get angry like she wanted to because she _had_ done something more or less intentional that would enrage John. He was just angry at her for the wrong reason.

That wouldn't stop her from giving him a small piece of her mind.

"John, I'm sorry. I messed up. But that does _not_ give you an excuse to get drunk, come home, smash the front door down and scream at me for something that was an honest mistake!" she yelled. She had tried to keep her voice from rising but had failed.

"It's not that you did it," he slurred, "it's what you wrote." For the first time since he had first arrived, he wasn't screaming.

Were her feelings for Alexander so obvious that she had cost her husband a career opportunity?

 _No. I won't let him win this. He shouldn't have allowed this to hold him back._

"It isn't _my_ fault you're so bad at your job." she snapped.

His jaw dropped. Angelica figured she had already started digging her own grave, and that she might as well finish.

"And _maybe_ , if you cared to pay me a bit more attention or _listen_ to me every once in a while, I wouldn't have to vent all my frustrations to someone who lives halfway across the world."

He started sputtering. She sighed dejectedly.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'd like to be as drunk as you are right now."

* * *

 **A/N: I'M ALIVE! I'm very sorry about not updating for an entire freaking month. School is rough. Anyways, thank you all for the reviews! I really love it when people are like 'I didn't ship this before I read this story'. It makes me feel like I accomplished something with my life. Until next time, some time before next month.**


	8. Chapter 8

The familiar head jerked backward as it took a shot and slammed the glass down onto the table. Thomas made his way over to her, taking a few drinks of his whiskey at the same time. The sight that greeted him wasn't entirely what he was expecting.

Angelica Church, who normally held herself with a sort of regal defiance, was slouched over the wooden table, which held at least four shot glasses and a bottle of rum. She didn't seem to notice his presence.

"Was kissing me really so bad that you have to drink yourself to death?" he asked frankly.

She took a moment to turn around and face him. Her dark eyes glimmered in the candlelight, but were slightly less lively. She didn't look entirely surprised to see him, but she didn't look happy about it either.

"Go away, Jefferson."

He pulled up a chair to face her and straddled it.

"What's this all about?" he asked.

She threw her hands up in the air.

"Can't I just drink because I want to?"

"Well _clearly_ you can." He gestured to the empty glasses on her table.

She glared at him, then put her head in her hands while still slouched over the table, muttering, "Of all the pubs in the _entire_ city of Paris, I _had_ to pick the one with you in it."

"Great minds think alike,but why are you _really_ here? What are you trying to forget?"

She snorted, something very un-Angelica of her to do.

"I don't have to tell you anything," she snapped,"Why don't you run back home? I'm sure there's a steamy plate of macaroni waiting that doesn't have to suffer through a conversation with you."

"Really? That's the best you got?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

She sighed in an annoyed way.

"No, but I don't feel like crushing any more poor unfortunate souls tonight." she said as if it was a throw-away comment, but the small voice crack told Thomas that it upset her.

"I take it the 'poor unfortunate soul' you stepped on was your husband's?" her glare confirmed his guess.

"Why do you care so much? The man's an idiot; he probably deserved it." he stated matter-of-factly.

Angelica took a few moor gulps of whiskey at his comments. Thomas wondered how she was still talking with such a steady voice after drinking so much. _The woman can handle her liquor_ , he thought, amused.

His amusement didn't last long.

" _Why do I care?_ " Her eyes shone with angry tears. Thomas felt his stomach drop and wished he could somehow travel back in time and say the right thing.

"If you _must_ know, I 'care' because that's what wives are supposed to do, okay? They're supposed to care what happens to the man they promised to devote their lives to, no matter how young and blind they were when they made that promise." she choked out.

"And wives are supposed to love and cherish what they no longer love. They are supposed to languish in their loveless marriages when they know they could be thriving with another. They are left responsible to revive something that's already dead." she spat.

Thomas could see the hatred on her face, and he knew it was directed at herself. She took another drink.

"I'm definitely over reacting, but it's been going on for so long. And I'm so tired of it." she said softly, more to herself than to him.

He knew now that he didn't need to know what had happened, only how to fix it. A blend of emotions were stewing inside of him; anger and sadness very prominent. He didn't like seeing Angelica, of all people, so broken; he was determined to put the pieces back together.

He leaned forward and wiped a few stray tears off her face. She looked at him in surprise, but didn't back away.

"First of all, this isn't your fault. Don't ever blame yourself for this." he said, not really sure where he was going.

"I know some lawyers if you ever want to try for a divorce. They'll take your case with a little persuasion from yours truly." He was relieved to see her smirk again.

"And if you need a place to stay tonight, my door is always open."

Not in his wildest dreams did he imagine that she would nod her head.

"I don't want to go home. But I can't stay here forever." she said, looking at the empty glasses with disdain. "I swear they're watering down the drinks."

"That or you definitely have a supernatural drinking ability. I would be plastered."

She laughed a little too loudly.

"Well, that was the goal."

They both stood up, Angelica stumbling a bit, and walked out of the pub into the night air. Angelica buttoned the front of her coat and pulled it a little tighter around herself. Thomas offered her his arm, which she took after a moment of hesitation. They made light conversation on the way there, electing to ignore the previous topic. They reached his home and stepped inside.

"You're home late, sir. I didn't know if-" Sally cut her words off as she saw Angelica, who at this point was clearly drunk. She gave Thomas a scathing look.

"She just needs a place to stay tonight." Thomas defended himself. He knew that Sally would ask questions, so he quickly asked her to go prepare the guest bedroom.

"Yes, sir." she said before giving him another look of warning.

Thomas knew that if Angelica wanted to leave, she would've left then, and knew that she hated when any of his slaves did things for her, but she was practically half asleep on his arm.

"'Watering down the drinks' my ass." He muttered, and she smiled.

Once the room was ready, he led her to it and made sure it was suitable. He fiddled with a few things on the dresser, slipping an old picture into the pocket of his coat.

By the time he turned around, Angelica was sprawled out on the bed. By the looks of things, she was already asleep. He grabbed a blanket out of one of the drawers and draped it over her.

Thomas leaned down to kiss her forehead. His eyes widened in shock when she leaned up to meet his lips with her own. She deepened the kiss, burrowing her hands into his hair. He responded equally as passionately, until Angelica started tugging on his coat. He hesitated, then tore himself away. He sighed at the look on her face.

"We both know you would kill me in the morning if we kept going."

She nodded, but he knew she didn't really know the weight of her actions right now anyways. He reluctantly left her side and walked to the door.

Just as he was about to close the door, he heard her mutter a small thank you before the sound of slow breathing was all that filled the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Aaaaaand I'm back! Sorry I abandoned you all for a while. I tried to update my other story and it ended up adding a whole bunch of extra chapters that I don't know how/can't delete. So that led to a rage quit for a little while (plus school finals and all that) but I went on vacation recently and I'm ready to write again. Enjoy this unreasonably late chapter.  
**

* * *

When Angelica woke up, the only thing that registered in her mind was that it felt like something heavy was jumping on her head. She closed her eyes and rolled over, groaning hoarsely. She took a few few deep breaths to try and let herself sink back into sleep so she didn't have to deal with what was obviously a massive hangover.

Angelica grabbed the pillow and put it over her head, wanting just a few more minutes of precious sleep. It was then she realized that something wasn't right. She threw the pillow aside and sat up in one quick motion. She widened her eyes in disbelief and realized that this wasn't her room.

The next few moments were spent trying to think rationally. This wasn't her bedroom. That she knew. It did feel oddly familiar for a room she didn't recognize. She suddenly looked down at herself, checking to see if she was fully clothed. To her relief, she was. She didn't need a real reason for John to be angry with her.

 _John._

With the thought of her husband, a storm of memories washed over her. Their fight, raging to the pub, her encounter with Jefferson...she tried to remember what had happened after she left the pub with him, but she couldn't.

 _He offered me a place to stay. I probably only spent the night_ , she tried to reassure herself.

Angelica swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, ignoring the pain in her head and the wrinkled state of her dress. She slowly walked over to the door and turned the knob, not in a hurry to face John or Thomas. The hallway was dark compared to her guest room, which had a large window that allowed the daylight to seep in. She stepped out into it, almost grateful for the shadows. However silly she knew it was, she felt less exposed within them.

Angelica walked along the walls of the hallway, not sure where she was going yet. From her previous tour, she knew that she was in the upper level of the house. Or mansion, rather. The hallway kept twisting around into more rooms that probably didn't have a real use other than to show off. Curiosity got the best of her and she opened a few doors, peering inside.

She wasn't sure how, but Angelica eventually ended up at the large oak door to Thomas's room. She looked both ways before creaking itopen to see if anyone was inside. No one was. She couldn't help but step in anyways, closing the door quietly behind her.

She caught sight of her face in a mirror and nearly groaned out loud. Her hair was a frizzy mess and the bags underneath her eyes were very hard to miss. Deciding there was nothing to be done about it right now, she turned away from the mirror and looked at the desk across the room.

A wave of curiosity hit her, and she knew at this point there was no use fighting it. She crawled rather awkwardly across the bed, stumbling over her skirts, to the desk that sat on the other side.

Angelica looked down hungrily at the pages of writing that were sprawled across the as she picked one off of the pile to examine, she heard the door on the other side of the room creak open. Without thinking, she dropped the paper and ducked behind the side of the bed quickly.

"Relax, I won't tell him you were in here."

To Angelica's relief, it wasn't Thomas's drawling voice, it was Sally's calm one. Angelica got to her feet guiltily.

"That wasn't my finest moment." Angelica stated. Sally had the glint of amusement in her eyes, but spoke kindly anyways.

"It's alright. Thomas sent me to come check on you again. When you weren't in your room, I guessed you would be in here."

"Again?" asked Angelica, wondering how long she had slept in. "You wouldn't happen to know what time is it, would you?"

Sally's eyes darted to a clock Angelica hadn't seen.

"Half past noon, so not too long, considering how late you two got in last night." Sally said with a hint of suggestion, putting a hand on her hip.

Angelica looked at her with wide eyes, not bothering to hide her shock or plea for understanding.

"It's a long story. I was drunk and I needed a place to stay, that's all." said Angelica firmly. Although she had a gut feeling that it _was_ something more that she was making it out to be. Sally nodded quickly.

"That's what Thomas said too. I apologize, I meant no disrespect." said Sally, trying to cover her tracks. Angelica shook her head and snorted in spite of herself.

"Don't apologize. I don't deserve any respect, especially from you."

Sally looked down at her feet, evidently not knowing what to say. She eventually settled on asking Angelica whether she'd like to go downstairs. Angelica smiled tightly.

"I suppose I can't hide up here all day."

Sally smiled and the two ladies made their way down the twisted staircase. When they reached the bottom, Angelica wasn't sure what to do with herself. Sally seemed to sense her unease.

"I can go get Thomas for you, just wait right here."

Before Angelica could protest, Sally was gone. She sighed, wishing she had just left instead of snooping around. She had already unintentionally poured her heart out to Jefferson; she didn't want any more of the resulting pity.

Angelica heard Thomas's long stride before he rounded the corner. She took in his unusual appearance: he was wearing dirty black trousers and a simple brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A bit of sweat lined his brow and he had dirt on his hands. She had never seen him look so..well... _messy._

Or, frankly, so attractive.

"Well it's about time you got up." he said.

As soon as he opened his mouth and her eyes flickered to his lips, she remembered the kiss from the night before. She struggled to keep her face impassive. That definitely explained the feeling of something more happening.

 _That's because something more did happen._

She could tell Thomas remembered by the way his eyes were scanning her face for any sign of discomfort. She wasn't going to let him have that satisfaction, so she painted a carefree smirk onto her face, much like the ones that he normally wore so proudly.

"I normally get up a lot earlier. I must have really been plastered."

Thomas let out a small laugh that Angelica could tell was fake. They stood there in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Thomas spoke up again.

"Would you like to come see the garden?" he asked suddenly.

 _Well that explains the dirt._

Her eyebrows rose at the request. Before she knew what she was doing, she had nodded yes. Why she was so impulsive around him, she didn't know.

She followed him out a back door and down a stone path towards an area surrounded by a swirling black iron fence. When they entered, she noticed that the sky wasn't visible through the canopy of large trees overhead.

Thomas sat on a bench while Angelica looked around at the variety of plants, fruits, and vegetables that grew under the canopy. She walked around in an intrigued silence, ignoring the dirt that would surely stain her skirts. She stopped when a red fruit caught her eye.

"Why do you grow tomatoes if they're poisonous?" she asked. She wasn't prepared for his response.

He walked over, straight faced, picked a tomato, looked her dead in the eye, and took a bite. Angelica could only stand there with her mouth agape and a sinking feeling in her stomach.

 _Am I really such a burden that he had to kill himself?_ she thought to herself almost angrily. She still didn't quite believe it. _That must not be a tomato._ But it looked a whole lot like a real tomato, and she couldn't think of anything else it could be.

 _So he really must be poisoned. Unless..._

"Tomatoes aren't poisonous?" she asked rather than told Thomas in a breathy voice that didn't sound like her own. He stopped chewing for a moment just to pout.

"You're too smart to be fun. Most people have fits of panic." he grinned in a sinister fashion.

She dropped her jaw and smacked him on the backside of his head.

" _What the hell is your problem?"_ she yelled a little louder than she meant to. Thomas started laughing hysterically. Angelica planned to rip him a new one.

"I'm already on edge and you _know_ it, and your idea of funny is to pretend to be poisoned?" she yelled, picking a tomato and throwing it at him. His infuriating laughter continued to ring throughout the garden.

Angelica spent the next few minutes showing off her colorful language and the impressive amount of force she could use to throw tomatoes. In the end, she was sitting among the now completely bare tomato plants, laughing hysterically beside Thomas.

Eventually the laughing died down and Angelica felt lighter than she had before, like a weight had been lifted. She looked over at Thomas, who was still wiping tomatoes away from his face.

"Do you pull that little number on all of your guests?" she asked, trying to sound bitter but failing.

"No, but you aren't allowed to be angry. You just destroyed four months worth of work." He said, gesturing to the now barren plants. Angelica rolled her eyes.

"Well you just shaved four years off of my life." she said dryly.

"Yes, what would you do without me?" he said with a grin.

"Probably live a long healthy life free of worry of you eating some random poisonous plant." She looked around. "You certainly have a lot of time on your hands, one of these plants has got to be poisonous."

"I know these plants all by name. None of them are poisonous." Angelica saw what looked like pride in his eyes.

"I never really liked gardening. It was always more of my sister Eliza's thing." says Angelica fondly.

"Really? Because you seem practiced in the art of throwing tomatoes." he said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes, which settled on the canopy above her. She leaned back, resting her head on her arms. Thomas saw her lay down and frowned.

"You know you're going to have to leave eventually." he said, the humor gone from his voice. She sighed softly.

"I know. But I don't have to leave yet."

She knew it was very unlike herself to hide from her problems, but she felt so safe in that moment. The soft ground beneath her and the earthy stench in the air made her want to stay there staring at the tops of trees forever.

She hadn't noticed Thomas lay down beside her, but supposed she forgave him for faking his own death because she didn't ask him to get up.

And for a while she forgot to think. She closed her eyes and let herself be peaceful for a moment, ignoring the fact that later today she would have to save a marriage.


	10. Chapter 10

Thomas shut his front door, but only after Angelica had made her way down the hill and around the corner. He had wanted to walk her home, but she had told him that she needed time alone to think. He had nodded and bit his tongue, something he did very rarely.

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled harshly. Thomas didn't know why he cared so much about this woman's problems. He had never been the charitable type.

Or, rather, he knew he cared, and it scared him.

He made his way through the house, walking up the staircase and heading towards his room. Sally passed him in the hallway. She took one look at his facial expression and stepped in front of him, crossing her arms.

"What happened?"

"You know, I'm starting to think Angelica has a bad influence on you." he said dryly. He had never known Sally to stand him down unless it was the last possible option.

"That doesn't answer my question." she said, not backing down. However, Thomas didn't miss the subtle shakiness of her voice. He glowered at her.

"She left. That's what happened." Thomas tried to sound like he could care less, but the words sounded surprisingly bitter. Sally had an odd expression on her face, like she was puzzled.

"So you let her go back?" Sally asked quizzically. Thomas snorted.

"Have you met Angelica? You don't _let_ her do anything, she does whatever she wants anyways."

"But she doesn't want her husband." As soon as the words left Sally's lips, Thomas's face darkened and Sally looked at her feet, knowing she had over spoken.

"Dont talk about what you don't understand, Sally." His voice sounded tired. He walked past her, and she knew better than to follow. But she couldn't help trying one more thing.

"She talked in her sleep, you know. When I went to check on her." This got Thomas to stop in his tracks.

"She mentioned you." she said hesitantly.

"Well that was more than less than unhelpful." he snorted. Sally shrugged.

"Just what I heard." she was about to walk away when she seemed to remember something. "Oh, and there are about six letters on your desk."

Thomas took a break from his moodiness to be confused.

"Six?" he asked, to which Sally nodded.

"Five are from James Madison, one is from Washington." she breathed out the name 'Washington' like she wasn't allowed to say it. Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Figures. Thank you Sally."

"You're welcome Sir."

"It's Thomas!" he called back, already closing his door behind him.

* * *

Angelica strolled very slowly down a cobblestone street, not eager to go home. Her head kept her on the steady path, but her gut told her to run back to Thomas's house, the square, to church, to _anywhere_ but her house.

 _Why am I doing this?_

The thought plagued her like a pesky fly that wouldn't go away. She didn't really have an answer, but for whatever reason she felt like she was giving up Alexander all over again.

 _Only it isn't Alexander._

A mother nearby covered her child's ears as Angelica swore loudly. Alexander and Thomas were two completely different animals, yet she had fallen for them both.

 _No. Everyone wants what they can't have. That's all this is._

She kicked a rock along the trail, wishing her problems with John would go away by throwing tomatoes at him. The thought of that made her smirk. If she did that, she may as well kiss the outside world goodbye.

The thought made her stop walking. Why should she have to appease John?

 _Because you got yourself into this mess_ , she reminded herself for the trillionth time. She tried to keep her mind from straying to what would happen if she could possibly get out of it.

Angelica reached her house and entered it before she could change her mind. She hesitated in the hall, wondering what she would say to John when she saw him. Luckily, she didn't have to seek him out. John walked briskly down the stairs and almost collided with Angelica. He looked a little stunned before regaining his composure and speaking.

"I'm glad you're home." he stated with a curt nod, like it was a business deal.

"Me as well." A blatant lie.

They stared at each other in an awkward silence before Angelica realized he was looking for an apology. A cold fury washed over her, followed by a tired sadness.

"I'm too tired to play your games today, John."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his brows furrowed. Angelica was sure he knew what she was about to say.

"I'm talking about where I give you an empty apology, you pretend to forgive me, and we go back to blissful ignorance." Angelica smiled, her dark eyes icy. This left John sputtering.

"What- I- the _audacity_ -"

Angelica held up a hand.

"John, why did you marry me?"

For once, the politician's mask fell away. In Angelica's opinion, he looked much older and much more tired. Kind of like herself.

"You aren't a fool, Angelica. You know why I married you."

She nodded once before stalking away towards her study. When she heard his voice again, she resisted the urge to throw a shoe at him.

"There's a banquet this afternoon. Wear green please."

The only acknowledgement Angelica made to show she heard him was slamming the door of her study.

She sank down against one of the walls. Hot, angry tears spilled down her cheeks, and she hastily wiped them away.

 _Back to square one._

She wasn't angry at John or even herself. She was angry that she had half the mind to go to try and make things right.

 _Not again._

She got off the floor, snatched up a quill and paper, then sat at her desk and began scribbling with a shaky hand.

 _My darling Eliza,_

 _I am going to be frank: my marriage is shattering and I am tired of putting the pieces back together only to have it break apart once more._

 _A powerful friend here in Paris has offered lawyers and support should I try for a divorce. I think I'm going to take up his offer while I still can._

 _I haven't told John yet, so I'd like to know what you think. I need to hear your voice._

 _On that dreary note, I look forward to getting your response. Say hello to Alexander for me._

 _Your sister, Angelica_

Angelica stared at the letter she had scribbled down in about three minutes. It was almost illegible, but she said what she had to say. She set it aside and let her head rest on the desk.

That's when it hit her: the idea of divorce. Of _freedom._ Freedom to study, to go outside, to discuss politics herself, to do whatever she damn well pleased. She smiled at the thought, basking in the idea of it. She would have it.

* * *

Thomas stood uncomfortably as a woman he had just met clung to his arm and yammered away about this or that. He loved redheads as much as the next guy, but this one evidently didn't know when to shut up.

He had been introduced to Annabelle Valert not ten minutes ago. Her father had set them up, and he knew he couldn't refuse. Normally he would've been delighted to have an excuse to take home such a pretty young thing, but this time he was already distractedly looking for someone else.

Annabelle tugged on his sleeve, and his wandering eyes were forced to abandon his search.

"What?"

"You just seem so distracted. Are you hungry? Or would you like to dance?" her eyes darted to the dance floor and her eyes widened. "I know that girl, that's the one I was telling you about!"

Thomas was starting to understand why her father had pawned her off to him.

"Well why don't you go say hi?" he deadpanned. She didn't seem to notice his annoyed tone.

"Don't be silly, that's the girl that spilled wine on one of my best dresses. I would never talk to her." she whined.

"Mhm. Somehow I don't believe that you would _never talk_ to anyone." he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

* * *

Angelica craned her neck to finally spot the splash of magenta in the sea of green. Her husband seemed to follow her gaze. When his lips made a small 'oh' shape, she knew that he had spotted Jefferson. John politely wrapped up the conversation, then quickly thought up an excuse to get Angelica to leave.

"Darling, I'm a bit parched from all that talking and I know you're dying to get away for a bit. Why don't you go get some drinks?"

 _Wow, he needs more practice._

"Don't worry, I'll behave myself in front of Jefferson, I promise."

He grimaced but nodded, knowing there was no use arguing now. She took his arm once more and they made their way over.

Angelica could tell from the look on Thomas's face that he was completely zoned out, and it was only when they got closer that she knew why.

The woman beside Thomas may have been talking him into a coma, but she also had pretty pale skin, shiny red hair, and sickeningly gorgeous green eyes that matched her dress.

Angelica already hated her.

As soon as Thomas saw Angelica and John approaching, he snapped out of it and smiled widely and convincingly.

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Church, what a pleasure." he said, talking over the girl.

Angelica waited out their conversation impatiently. She tugged on her skirts in irritation. She had never liked this dress. It was itchy and had a giant bow in the back that made her look like a poorly wrapped gift. It was a light green rather than dark, so it made a weird contrast against the orange walls of this particular hall.

Every now and then, Angelica would glance over at the girl beside Thomas, who was watching him talk intently. For whatever reason, she didn't trust the girl's wide doe eyes. She glanced back at Thomas and saw the venom in his eyes. Was John blind?

Eventually, they finished their conversation. John seemed pleased with himself. He offered Angelica his arm once more, but she didn't take it.

"I'd actually like to speak alone with Th- Mr. Jefferson, if it's alright with you."

She could tell it was most certainly not alright with him, but he couldn't deny her such a simple request in front of Jefferson.

"Alright." he said with a too wide smile, his eyes full of warning. Without another word, he stalked off towards the other side of the room.

Thomas turned towards Annabelle, while Angelica crossed her arms and waited to be rid of her.

"Annabelle, would you be a doll and go get your father? I definitely have a few things I need to discuss with him later." he said, not even trying to hide his disdain.

"Of course, all good things I hope." she said in her sickeningly sweet French accent. She pressed a lingering kiss against his cheek, and Angelica didn't miss her smug smirk as she fluttered away.

"What a catch." Angelica deadpanned, then dragged Thomas by the arm across the room before he could say anything.

She checked to see if the coast was clear, then ducked behind one of the looming black curtains in the room. Thomas quickly followed suit.

Thomas's face was twisted into a smirk that she knew meant bad news.

"What's so amusing, Mr. Jefferson?" she asked, rather unamused herself.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous of Annabelle."

Angelica smacked the backside of his head.

"And if _I_ didn't know any better, I'd say you should be thanking me for being your excuse to get away."

Thomas didn't say anything, just waggled his eyebrows. Angelica glowered at him.

"I need you to stop acting like a five-year-old and listen to what I have to say. Do you think you can handle that?" she asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

He stopped moving his eyebrows, but his face still held a small smirk.

"You have my undivided attention."

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm taking you up on your offer. I'm going to try for a divorce."

She was pleased to see that the smirk had been wiped clean off his face. It was replaced by an oddly serious expression that she couldn't identify, but it alarmed her for some reason.

"Now, John doesn't know yet, so you have to-"

She was cut off by Thomas's lips pressing into hers. Her eyes widened in shock as the kiss deepened before she knew what was happening.

She knew she should stop, but she simply didn't want to. She tilted her head back and it took everything she had to stifle a moan. His hands were clinging to her hips, pressing her to the wall, while hers roamed inside his jacket, trying to find some skin.

Thomas, as it turned out, didn't have to strength to stifle the moan that escaped. Angelica suddenly remembered where they were and broke away reluctantly.

They were both left gasping for breath. Angelica prayed that no one had noticed them. Meanwhile, Thomas had a crooked grin on his face.

"Congratulations." said Thomas, looking very pleased with himself.

 _Why did it have to be him_ , Angelica wondered, but caught herself smiling all the same.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you all for the reviews, I'm glad you liked that last chapter! Get prepared to hate my guts after the next few chapters, though. In other news, I FINALLY fixed the weird spacing/grammar thing (WOOHOO). It wasn't only bugging you guys, it really annoyed me too. I put a lot of work into these chapters and I hate it when the app disfigures them with weird spacing and stuff. I went back and fixed all my other chapters too, so those should be easier to read. I'll be writing on my laptop from now on, which is good in terms of that problem, but I might take longer to get chapters up because I won't be able to write on the go. Anyways, happy reading, and feel free to vent your frustrations in the comments section when you finish this chapter ;)**

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A disgruntled Thomas swiped no fewer than four unopened letters into the trash bin that sat next to his desk after checking to see that none were from the President. He knew they were all from Madison, and he knew what they would say.

 _Thomas, you need to come back to America-_

 _Thomas, the south has been compromised-_

 _Thomas, the treasury secretary-_

He wasn't exactly eager to go home to Virginia just yet. He loved France and he still had business to conduct here, specifically concerning a certain divorce that was long overdue. Thomas knew that if he told James that that was the reason he was staying, James would get on a boat and _drag_ Thomas back to the states, so he hadn't written him back yet.

It would be worth it though, especially if he got to step off the boat with Angelica by his side.

He smiled at the thought, but quickly wiped it off of his face. Tonight had to go well for that to happen. He glanced over his shoulder at the clock, checking to see if it was time to leave yet. It wasn't, but he got out of his chair and grabbed his coat anyways. Thomas didn't want to have to wait any longer.

The last time Angelica and Thomas had seen each other was at the banquet, and that was three weeks ago. Behind the safety of the curtain, Angelica had told him that she needed to stay away from him until this divorce was taken care of because she didn't want John to get suspicious. They had also arranged a date which they could both meet the lawyer, which happened to be in an hour or so. Sure, they wrote short letters to each other every once in a while, but it wasn't nearly the same.

Their last kiss still haunted him, still sneaking into his consciousness when he least expected it. It was downright maddening, but he loved it.

Needless to say, Thomas was itching to see Angelica.

He stepped out into the night and set off towards the pub they had agreed to meet at. _Les Amis_ had been the place Thomas had first brought up divorce, it seemed only fitting that it was the place they put it into action in as well.

Thomas wasn't naïve. He knew divorces took time, especially when there was no violence involved and the wife was initiating it, but he felt like skipping down the hill and into the street. As soon as he got past his front lawn, however, his mood dropped significantly.

Ever since America had won their independence, Thomas had noticed the people that usually lurked in the shadows were now coming into the murky street light, their once quiet whispers escalating into a dull roar. King Lois was neglecting them; he was in debt from the war cause, but the fact that he kept spending on lavish parties wasn't helping things.

He couldn't blame these impoverished people for being so angry with the nobles, with him. But he knew people were most dangerous when they were hungry, and magenta wasn't exactly a subtle color.

Thomas kept a tight grip on his cane and ignored the stares as he walked down the path to _Les Amis._ A lean but muscular older man eyed his coat pockets hungrily, and Thomas tried not to grind his teeth as he wondered if Angelica had made it to the pub safely. If she hadn't, he doubted he would be sympathetic towards these people's plight anymore.

Upon entering the dingy pub, his eyes immediately flickered towards the candlelit corner that Angelica had sat in last time. He breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized the hooded figure stationed there.

"If you were going for subtle, this might not have been the way to go." 'Thomas critiqued, motioning to the black hood shading her face. The dark eyes beneath the hood rolled upward.

"You're one to talk."

"Lucky for me, I can be as conspicuous as I want." Thomas took a seat.

"Yes, I'm so glad you got to keep your fashion sense intact for this. Wouldn't want the lawyer mistaking you for someone else." Angelica scoffed.

Thomas smirked along with her, but his face became serious soon afterwards. He knew Angelica wouldn't like what he had to say next.

"Listen, Angelica. Jokes aside, all I told the lawyer is that I have a friend who wants to divorce her husband. Normally, these lawyers expect a sob story of abuse or violence, or for the husband to at least consent." Thomas said cautiously.

"Why are you telling me all of this? I know what I'm getting myself into." Angelica said, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Because I know without a doubt that this lawyer will take your case. I can make sure of that. But he will need some sort of testimony to give to the judge." Thomas looked pained, and Angelica understood what he was saying.

"You think he's going to ask me to anger John to the point of hurting me?" said Angelica darkly.

Thomas sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, pushing his hair back, but he suddenly had the gleam of determination in his eyes.

"It won't come down to that. I won't let it. Just let me do the talking." He said, gaining back the ego-centric persona that he usually had. Angelica barked out a laugh that didn't seem all together intentional.

"I don't think a slap from John would do much damage, anyways."

Angelica smirked and Thomas laughed, and for a moment it wasn't like her life's future rested on this meeting. That is, until the lawyer walked in.

Angelica's keen eyes picked him out before he had even walked through the entrance. He had a trimmed beard not unlike Thomas's, but the similarities ended there. The man was short and frail looking, with sleek blonde hair pulled back and some of the cloudiest spectacles she had ever seen rested on his nose.

When he opened his mouth to talk, Angelica expected a quiet, dignified greeting. Instead, she nearly jumped when she heard his loud, booming voice.

"Thomas! Good to see you again, old friend." The man embraced Thomas in what looked like a bone-crushing hug. Angelica tried her hardest not to smirk when Thomas looked back at her for help.

"And you must be Mrs. Church." Angelica smiled and he kissed her hand.

"Soon to be Miss…?" he looked at her expectantly, and Angelica realized he was waiting for her maiden name.

"Miss Schuyler." She said, not able to keep the hopeful smile off her face. She didn't want to trust this man after Thomas's speech, but he reminded her of Alexander a bit.

"Well then, Miss Schuyler," he adjusted his spectacles and rubbed his hands together, "let's get down to business, shall we?"

* * *

By the end of the night, Angelica, Thomas, and Berle Jorlas (or as Angelica called him, The Lawyer) were all tipsy and blended in rather well with everyone else in the rowdy pub.

In the short span of an hour or so, they had determined that this divorce was possible, Angelica just had to play the card of being neglected and talk about the short 'house arrest'. Much to her delight, the lawyer was going to let her do a lot of the testimony herself. Thomas had barely spoken a word, but Angelica noticed he was struggling to keep the stupid smile off of his face and shifting in his chair every now and again.

Now they were just killing time until they all had to go home again.

"You married, Berle?" asked Angelica, taking another swig of her drink.

"Aye, but I would happily divorce if it meant I could have a shot at your hand, darling." He said suavely, but Angelica knew he was joking.

Angelica and Thomas laughed when they noticed he was looking suspiciously over his shoulder, as if he was expecting to see his wife standing there disapprovingly.

"Yeah, don't let Mary hear you saying that." Chuckled Thomas loudly.

"And I'm flattered, but I don't need a second divorce on my horizon." Angelica said, straight faced. Berle let out a cackling laugh.

"No, I s'pose not." Berle took a drink then gave them both a mischievous look. "I wouldn't want to get in the way of you two lovebirds, anyways."

Angelica and Thomas tried to keep their faces impassive, but Berle must have caught the look of initial panic in their eyes. He let out a laugh.

"Relax, no one has to know," he hiccupped, "unless you want your husband to divorce you instead."

Angelica snorted.

"Are you kidding? John would probably encourage it if he knew Thomas would endorse him at the next election."

The rest of the night was filled with this banter. By the time they all got up to leave, Angelica felt like she had known Berle her whole life. They said their goodbyes and arranged a place to meet again at a later date once Angelica told her husband about the divorce. The lawyer disappeared into the shadowy street, leaving Angelica and Thomas standing in the entrance of the pub.

"Well that could've gone better." Said Thomas, straight faced. Angelica rolled her eyes at his sarcasm, but didn't have the heart to glare at him right now. She was too excited about how well this meeting had gone.

"Were you just trying to scare me with that speech before he got there?" asked Angelica.

"No, I wasn't. I know Berle as a friend, not a lawyer. I'd heard he was good, but he made it sound easy." Explained Thomas.

Angelica nodded in understanding. She knew she had lucked out, and she was almost cynical about it.

"What if he can't really pull this off as easily as he says he can?" asked Angelica. Thomas sighed.

"We just have to trust that he can and he will." Thomas noticed Angelica didn't look entirely convinced, and he rolled his eyes.

"You know; you have some major trust issues. We might need to find you a shrink next."

Angelica punched his arm and Thomas winced. She took his arm as they walked down the path that lead to their houses.

"But, when this divorce _does_ happen, would you want to come back to America with me?" he asked, trying to keep the hope he felt out of his voice.

Angelica furrowed her eyebrows and pretended to consider it, if only to make Thomas sweat a little. She was pleased to see his assured smirk falter for a moment when she didn't respond.

"Yes, I think that can be arranged." She responded with a smile.

They talked about plans of the future along the road, neither one of them bothering to hide their excited smiles. They somehow managed to forget about those standing or sitting along the road, wrapped up in their own lives. Eventually, they stood in front of Angelica's house, neither one of them really wanting to move towards it.

Neither one really wanted to say goodbye, or they didn't know how, so they didn't say anything for a moment. Angelica noticed Thomas had a conflicted expression on his face, and knew he was contemplating something.

"Well, goodnight."

She barely got the words out of her mouth before Thomas had pulled her hood down from her face and the two shared a heated kiss, trusting the darkness to cover them from any unwelcome eyes.

Angelica saw stars, and she knew part of it was because she was drunk, but part of it just felt _right._ They were pressed so closely together that she could feel the muscles in his arm as he shifted them to entwine his hands in her hair.

When they paused to take a breath, Thomas immediately muttered, "Come home with me."

Every fiber of Angelica's being was screaming at her to say yes, but the good sense she had been blessed with was telling her to run.

"I can't. Not until this divorce happens." Was that her voice? It sounded weaker than usual.

Thomas didn't look convinced.

"You know you don't owe him this, right?" he said, his brows furrowed.

"I know that." Angelica didn't have anything else to say about it. She knew she was doing this purely for her own self-righteousness, not for John.

Thomas sighed and forced himself to step back. He wasn't going to argue with her, but he certainly didn't have to like her more self-righteous tendencies.

"Goodnight then, Miss Schuyler." He said, then turned on heel in the direction of his own house.

* * *

One week later, the three of them managed to be at the same dinner party. Even more miraculously, they managed to get away from their spouses (or in Jefferson's case, Annabelle) to go and talk with one another.

They held the same easy banter as they had at the pub, despite none of them being drunk. For once, Angelica found herself enjoying a banquet and possibly even looking forward to more of them.

They continued to talk, Angelica always keeping one eye on John. She didn't want him to walk over should the divorce come up. She got to meet Mary, Berle's wife. She was slightly taller than the man, with rosy cheeks and a happy aura that Angelica liked.

However easy the conversation was, Angelica couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. She knew she was being ridiculous, but something in her gut was off.

Thomas seemed to notice, but before he could ask what was wrong, their heads both snapped in the direction of a voice that they knew didn't belong. It was quiet at first, but then grew a bit louder.

"Listen to me." It said, raspy and raw. It sounded tired, like it might not be able to get louder.

She identified the owner of the voice when other people were starting to look around in confusion. The man who had spoken was grimy and rough looking, clearly one of the people that lined the streets looking for money or food. He had a short, scraggly beard and had a look of desperation in his eyes. A few people backed away from him, clearly disgusted.

Angelica looked around the room and scoffed at the people around her, then started walking towards the man. If no one was going to help him, she would have to do.

At least, she would have, had he not pulled out the gun and fired it in the air.

There were several screams, and a few dry chunks of ceiling rained down on the people below. Angelica felt a tug on her arm, dragging her backwards, and knew without really thinking about it that it was Thomas.

"Glad to see I have your attention." The man rasped. He looked like he might keel over at any moment.

Angelica shared a worried look with Thomas before staring at the man like everyone else. She wanted to help him, but knew it was very unwise considering he seemed to be the only man in the room with a gun. She stared in horrified curiosity as the man continued to speak.

"You all can ignore us until the end of time if you pleased. But I can't ignore the death of my children. I won't ignore the death of my children. How many of your own deaths will you all ignore, I wonder?" he asked, and it was only then Angelica saw the blind fury in his eyes.

The man raised the gun in the direction of Berle, Thomas, and Angelica, and fired.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello, I have returned from the dead to try and write this chapter! I promised myself I would upload it sooner because I left you guys on a cliff hanger, but I also promised myself I would finish my math packet. So I'm really sorry about the wait, but I would like to pass pre-calc. Small warning: this chapter is a little more graphic than the others. Nothing too terrible, but if you decide to skip it, you can always request a summary of this chapter. I hope you enjoy this (very dramatic) chapter even if you hate it/me (I'm the worst sorry), and definitely leave a review.**

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What happened next seemed to be in slow motion. Angelica had heard the _bang_ of the gun and the screams of the people around her, but none of them pierced the haze she was in. She remembered people pushed and shoved their way to the door in an attempt to get out of the banquet hall. She vaguely remembered forcefully shoving Thomas out of the way and seeing him fall to the ground. She remembered a stinging sensation in her arm as a bullet grazed it. It was all very surreal.

That is, it was surreal before she saw Berle laying on the ground lying with a large, growing red stain near the center of his chest and heard the heart wrenching scream of his wife.

In one movement, Angelica threw herself on the ground next to Berle, placing her hands over the wound and holding them there firmly. After a what felt like hours, she found the courage to look into the eyes of the dying man; they were wide and fearful, and Angelica felt sick.

"Stay alive," she begged. Her only hope at divorce was bleeding out before her eyes, and she wasn't about to let him go.

Berle lifted his hand and grasped hers with a clammy, white-knuckled grip. His breaths were shallow and pained; eerily similar to a horse her father had put out of its misery when she was young. She heard another loud _bang_ from the gun, and another set of screams, but she couldn't look up to see what else had happened.

Thomas, who had remained put only because Berle was his friend, could not stand the chance of Angelica staying here any longer. He wrapped his arm around her torso and threw her over his shoulder without difficulty. Her hand was ripped out of Berle's.

"No! No!" Angelica screamed, kicked and squirmed, trying to get out the hold, but to no avail; Thomas was too determined to get out. She watched Berle breathe his last breath over Thomas's shoulder. His wife's wails followed them out the door, and Angelica knew they would haunt her forever. Thomas carried her in a dead sprint to the door and didn't stop running when he made it outside.

People in the street were staring on curiously, wondering what could possibly cause such a commotion. Angelica wanted to have their ignorance of the situation more than anything in that moment, but as hard as she tried to pretend it hadn't happened, it had. She wasn't sure how far Thomas carried her in his blind flight, but eventually he stopped in a secluded alley and set her down.

Try as she might to look at Thomas, she couldn't meet his eyes. They both stood there, panting, shaking, and trying to comprehend what had happened. Angelica could feel Thomas's eyes furiously scanning her and heard the sharp intake of breath when he saw her arm.

"Angelica, we need to get you some help." Thomas asserted.

She had never heard his voice so frightened, and she didn't like it. All she could do was shake her head. Thomas moved closer and lifter her chin so that their eyes met; both were dry eyed but terrified.

"Berle is dead." Angelica said, her voice devoid of emotion.

"I know." Thomas's, by comparison, was breaking. He wanted to scoop Angelica up again, if only to have something real to hold on to, but he settled for moving closer.

To his surprise, Angelica took a step back. Something about how unusually dark and frantic her gaze was made her look like a caged animal ready to lash out.

"Berle can't be dead. I just met him; we were all going to _Les Amis_ in a week. He _shouldn't_ be dead." Her voice sounded accusatory as it grew louder, though Thomas didn't know who she was accusing.

"Angelica, he's gone. We aren't going to see him again; maybe we'll go to his funeral. But he isn't coming back."

"But _why?_ " She exhaled a long breath, blinking rapidly. It seemed like she might hyperventilate, and Thomas could no longer take the separation. He pulled Angelica close to his chest and she didn't protest. After a moment of tensing up, she found herself leaning into his embrace.

As Thomas held her shaking form, images of the banquet flashed all too vividly before his eyes, which were beginning to prick with tears. The only thing that kept him from breaking down completely was his refusal to cry in front of Angelica, who was stone-faced in his arms. Suddenly remembering that her arm was bleeding out, he gently stepped away.

"We have to go get someone who can stitch you up."

"I was only grazed." Angelica argued, unusually defensive. She didn't want to leave the alley sooner than she had to, but she was definitely beginning to feel light headed. She had her arms crossed and refused to look down and see the amount of blood that she knew she had lost. Thomas gently grabbed her arm to look at it, and immediately recoiled at the sight.

"You need a doctor; now." His words, though loud and panicked, seemed distant to Angelica.

The rational side of her was telling her to go with Thomas, but nothing seemed rational right now. In fact, there were now about three Thomases looking at her with extreme concern. The last thing Angelica remembered before passing out was the tear sliding down all three of their cheeks.

* * *

It was too bright and Angelica's head was pounding. She forced herself to continue to squint despite the burning sensation in her eyes. After a moment, Thomas's head came into focus, his curly hair looking like a halo in the light. The room around him eventually evened out as well, and Angelica realized that she was staring up at the arched roof of a church.

"Thomas wha-" she tried to sit up but Thomas put his hand on her shoulder. Upon looking at his face, she recognized the blatant relief in his eyes. Her own eyes darkened and she felt her heart sink to her stomach as the blissful ignorance wore off and she remembered what had happened.

"You're awake." he breathed. Angelica slowly sat up from the pew and looked at her arm, which had been stitched up.

"I found a doctor. He was able to stitch and bandage your arm." Thomas explained. Angelica looked around and recognized faces from the banquet. All were fixed in expressions of grief or terror.

"How…how long have I been in this cesspool of mass hysteria?" Thomas couldn't help but smile. Only Angelica would be able to string together the phrase "cesspool of mass hysteria' within seconds after regaining consciousness.

"We just got here a moment ago. I haven't had a chance to look for anyone yet."

With a grimace, Angelica realized that 'anyone' meant John.

"So you don't know if he's alive?" The concern in Angelica's voice was genuine. She did want to divorce her husband, but she would never wish him dead. Especially not like _that._

Not a minute after she said this, 'anyone' found them.

"Angelica!" John Church saw his wife at the other end of the church and ran towards her, shoving others aside in his haste. His usually neat hair was in an unruly mess; his handsome face sweaty and distraught.

Thomas looked at Angelica, wanting her consent to send him away, but she shook her head.

"Darling, you're alive!" He cried joyously, then pulled Angelica's face to his in a blistering kiss that he surely wouldn't have been able to pull off under any other circumstances. Angelica was so relieved that he was alive that she returned it. Thomas's face may as well have turned green as he watched the scene with undisguised jealousy.

"I'm glad you're safe." Angelica said truthfully.

"When you didn't come back, I thought- I couldn't imagine- but you're safe!" he proclaimed. This was the rawest emotion she had ever seen him exhibit; the fact that there were others around made it even more impressive.

"Well, we both are."

"Let's go home; we have some packing to do."

"What?" Angelica and Thomas said simultaneously, Thomas slightly louder. John seemed to notice Thomas for the first time since he had come over.

"We can't be expected to stay here after this. What if there are more attacks? We, for one, are not going to stay and find out." John had an air of finality in his voice that Thomas despised. He looked to Angelica to say something to refute this.

"I- shouldn't we consider all our options first?" Angelica was exhausted, and her voice reflected this.

"There aren't options here, darling. That monster won't be the last; we can't risk it." He spoke slowly and with great pity. He clearly didn't think Angelica was thinking straight right now. Thomas was hyper-aware of himself grinding his teeth.

Angelica didn't have the strength to argue with John or even be angry with him. All she could concern herself with at the moment was understanding _why_ all this had happened. The question gnawed at the pit of her stomach like a terrible hunger that wouldn't be quenched until she had the answer. And she intended to get it.


End file.
